by Ryan Casey
She felt that guilt surfacing again.
That guilt for her own hand in this.
That knowledge that vengeance and lust for revenge had got her into this mess…
Then she pushed it away.
Fuck that shit.
Grace deserved whatever she was going to get.
She hopped down off a pile of bricks and stood in the middle of the dark street.
Usually at night, the place was quiet. But this felt different. It felt ghostly. Dead.
There was nobody around at all.
The sound of a shop door creaking in the cold breeze.
Bodies lining the road.
Bricks and debris everywhere.
She walked through the street, keeping her head down, keeping her sadness at bay. Trying to stay in the moment. Trying not to get caught in the guilt. In the sadness. In the hatred.
Just walking to where she needed to go.
She went towards the end of the terraced street, past the houses that so many people called home, and saw the old mechanics up ahead.
She knew there were weapons there. Not many, just stuff they’d found on their supply runs, their scouting missions. Generally, they tried to keep rifles and shit like that out of the hands of the people.
But Aoife knew there was enough in there with plenty of ammo after what happened with Christopher’s people. Enough to at least be able to put up some kind of fight in case any shit like that ever happened again.
She went to the door. Tried to open it, but it was locked.
Walked over to the window.
When she got to the window, she noticed something.
The window was smashed. And it didn’t look like it was smashed by the explosion, either.
It looked like it’d been smashed by someone who’d come here.
She looked around at the darkened streets. She’d seen the scavengers approaching earlier, and she knew she had to be careful. Was pretty damned sure all was good on that front, though. It looked all clear. Had to be.
“Come on, Rex,” she said. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”
She climbed in through the window. Dropped inside the dark, empty mechanics. Definitely empty in here. Everything was so quiet. So silent. So echoey.
She walked across the floor, into the darkness, towards the room at the back, where she knew the supplies were kept. Reached it, and went to open it, when her stomach sank.
The door was locked. Of course it was frigging locked.
She took a few breaths, calmed herself. Gus usually ran this place. She had no idea where he’d be if not here. Either he’d run, or he’d been blown to pieces.
She’d have to find those pieces. Have to find those keys attached to him, wherever they were.
She went to turn back and head to the window when she saw movement outside.
She froze.
Totally still.
Heart racing.
Rex growling.
“Ssh,” Aoife said.
She’d seen someone rush by. Definitely seen someone.
Unless it was a bird.
Or her eyes playing tricks on her.
She kept low. Walked over towards the window again, slowly. Held her breath and looked outside.
The streets were empty.
Dark.
No one in sight.
She took another deep breath. Just your mind playing tricks on you. Find Gus somehow. And if not… find another way in. And failing that… fuck. You’ll figure something out.
She went to climb out of the mechanics, out into the street, when she saw the movement again.
Up the road.
She froze.
Three figures.
Three figures in black, two of them holding knives, and one of them holding a rifle.
Her skin turned cold.
Scavengers.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Aoife saw the scavengers walking through the middle of the estate, and she knew she was in deep shit if she didn’t get away from here.
Fast.
She backed up slowly. Looked over her shoulder. Debris blocking the route out of here completely.
Her only way out of here, blocked.
And those scavengers, with their knives and their rifle…
She looked at the broken window by her side. The one she’d climbed through, into the mechanics.
If she could get back in there, maybe she could lay low.
Maybe she could hide.
But she had to be careful. Because even though it was dark, those scavengers were close.
And Rex’s growling wasn’t exactly helping.
“Rex,” Aoife whispered.
But he wasn’t for stopping at all.
“Rex!” Aoife said, a little sterner this time. “Come on. With me. Now.”
She walked slowly towards the window, keeping her eyes on the scavengers at all times. Not for a second turning from them. She wanted to know right away when they saw her. She wanted to know exactly when to run.
She reached the window. Eased Rex through. Went to climb in…
That’s when she saw them.
They turned over towards her.
One of them spoke: “Someone’s there!”
She didn’t even look anymore.
Didn’t even think.
She just threw herself inside the mechanics and backed over to the wall.
She stood there in the darkness. Listened to those footsteps racing closer and closer towards the mechanics. She was trapped. She was trapped in here, and she was fucked.
No.
She couldn’t be defeatist.
She couldn’t give up.
She was stuck here. And if she was stuck here, then she had to fucking do her best to do something about it. Make the best of a bad situation and all that.
She looked around for a weapon. For something she could use. She was in a mechanic’s, after all, so she’d surely find something.
She scrambled around for a tool. Something heavy. Something she could whack any fucker who stepped in her way over the head with.
Looked around as those footsteps got closer and closer but to no avail.
Then she saw it.
A hammer, right at the other side of the room.
She went to bolt towards it when she heard the footsteps right outside the window, and she knew they were here.
She dropped to the floor. Right behind a rusty old car. Heard the panting at the window. Rex being particularly quiet now, bless him.
“You see anyone in there, Kent? Or are those dumb eyes playin’ tricks on you again?”
“Piss off, Serge.”
“What was that?”
“Nothin’. Doesn’t matter. I’ll have a look anyway.”
She couldn’t see him, but she could hear him.
Climbing through the window.
Landing inside.
And she knew right then she wasn’t alone, and she had to be quiet.
Extra fucking quiet.
He walked across the floor. Broken glass cracking underfoot. She moved around the car with Rex by her side, trying to keep out of his view at all times. She could see the window. If she could just get to it, she could climb out. She could make a break for it. Run.
She could see that hammer at one end of the room. Too far away. The scavenger too close to it.
And then…
The glass.
The broken glass.
She looked down and saw it, just metres away.
Fuck. Why’d she been so stupid? She could’ve grabbed a shard of glass and used that from the off.
She stared at that glass shard across the floor. If she could just reach it…
She heard Rex growl around the other side of the car.
“The hell was that?” the bloke—Kent—muttered.
Fuck. Could you not be quiet for one damned second, Rex?
She heard Kent walk around the side of the car, and she saw she had an opportunity. A chance
.
Grab the glass.
Bury it into his throat.
Deal with the rest in her own time.
She went to make a break for the glass when she heard Kent laugh.
“Hell, boys. One damned tasty calendar in here! Full of tits, too!”
Aoife held her breath. Held Rex close. Her heart pounding like mad. Kent was so close. He was so close, and the glass was so close.
“You finished wanking in there, Kent? Or are you gonna get your arse out here? There’s fuck-all here we haven’t already got. Shit weapons, shit food, shit everything. Let’s just leave. William’ll be wondering where we’re at.”
She heard Kent sigh, flipping the pages of the calendar, then walk across the room to the window.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I’ll be there in a sec, killjoys.”
She saw him walk past her, knife in hand.
Saw him reach that window.
Watched him drop outside, disappear into the night.
When she was absolutely sure he was out of sight, she stood up.
Walked over to the window.
Went to stick her head outside.
That’s when she felt it.
The man, Kent, grabbing her.
Dragging her out of the window and into the road.
She struggled. Swung the broken glass towards his ankle. Caught him just a little.
He let out a cry. Then he kicked her fingers hard, smashing the glass.
He dragged her. Lifted her by the throat.
Pressed his knife against her neck.
Looked at her with his fat face, his breath reeking like shit, and he smiled.
“Well, well,” Kent said, as Rex barked like mad beside them. “What do we have here?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Aoife felt Kent’s hands tightening around her throat and gasped for breath.
He had tight hold of her. Real tight hold of her. And he was strong, too. So strong that her feet hovered above the ground. She could see Kent standing there, that smirk on his big fat face of his. Behind him, she could see his two friends, one of them holding a rifle, pointing it at her. The other just standing there, scanning her from head to toe, eyeing her up. Creep.
Beside her, she could hear Rex barking. And she wanted him to stop. She knew what scavengers could be like sometimes. Hell, she knew what people could be like.
She didn’t want him provoking them into doing anything horrible.
She didn’t want to lose anybody else.
“You’re not as smart as you think, y’know?” Kent said. “Heard you sniffing around the second we got here. Saw you creepin’ about, too. A woman, on her own. That’s dangerous, y’know?”
Aoife wanted to punch the bastard, to put him in his place. Creepy, misogynistic fuck.
“But it’s okay, honey,” Kent said. “I get it. Just seein’ what’s been left behind here. I get it. We all get it. That’s why we’re here, too. Only… well. Let’s just say I didn’t expect to find somethin’ quite so tasty on the menu.”
He laughed. And the blokes behind him laughed, too. And Aoife knew the only way through these creeps was by violence. She felt an idiot. A fucking idiot for coming back here when she knew the scavengers were around. But all that shit with Grace… needing to find weapons. Needing to trap her somehow…
All of it was just playing havoc with her mind.
She didn’t have a proper plan. She just had this raw desire for revenge surging through her system.
This guilt.
This shame.
And this hatred.
And it’d got her caught in this shit.
“What’s yer name, sugar? Speak to me.”
Aoife tried to open her mouth, tried to speak, but she couldn’t say a word. Kent’s grip around her neck was too tight. Everything was growing hazy, blurry.
“Loosen your grip on her a little, Kent. She ain’t no good to no one dead.”
“Huh,” Kent said. “I don’t mind ’um dead. Less… scratchy.”
His eyes glistened.
She noticed a hardness right around his crotch.
And she knew exactly what kind of a creep this bastard was.
But then he loosened his grip. Loosened it, and she fell to the road. Smacked her knees against the concrete. Coughed, gasped, and spluttered for air.
She looked up. Saw Rex beside her, nudging her like he wanted her to get to her feet. Like he wanted her to stand.
“See, one thing I will say,” Kent said, walking around in front of her. “Your dog here. He’s a good’un. Protective. I like that.”
And then he pulled back his knife and launched himself at Rex.
“No!” Aoife shouted.
She threw herself in front of him.
Dragged him down to the ground, covering every inch of his body.
Kent stopped, comically, just feet away from her. Laughed, like he was just fucking with her all along. Lowered his knife. “Hell, I’m just messin’ with ya. Wouldn’t hurt a dog. Unless it hurt me, anyway. Different matter altogether, then.”
“Stop dicking around, Kent,” one of the other blokes said. Serge, Kent called him before. “We need to get out of here. We need to get back to camp. It’s late as it is.”
Kent sighed. “Killjoy. Always a goddamned spoilsport. Well, come on, love. Let’s get you on yer feet. There ain’t shit here for us. But you’ll do as a prize. You’ll more than do. The boys are gonna love you—”
“What if I told you there’s weapons here?” Aoife said.
Kent frowned. The other two looked bemused. “Huh?”
Aoife gulped, her throat still sore from before. “What if… what if I told you I’m from this place. I was from here before it was burned down. And—and I came back because I was after a weapon. To fight someone. The people… the person who did this?”
Kent frowned. “In English, love?”
“That mechanics,” Aoife said, pointing towards it. Not really knowing the full lengths of her plan but knowing damned well she needed to think on her feet. Fast. “The one I was in. I went there because behind the locks in there, there’s a storeroom. And in that storeroom, there’s weapons. Only it needs a key. A key I don’t have. But you… you could help me find it.”
Kent looked back at the other two, then at her again. “Still not quite followin’”
“A man called Gus used to run this place. He lives… he lived in that house just opposite. If we can find his keys, we might be able to get in there. We might be able to get those supplies.”
She said these words and saw the way they were looking at her. Like she had a motive.
And she did have a motive.
She knew Gus didn’t live in that house opposite.
But that house was in dire need of construction work.
And if she could somehow get them in there, she could use its collapsing form to her advantage.
She just needed to persuade them.
“I won’t pretend we had loads of arms,” Aoife said. “But we had enough. Enough that you’ll be interested. Enough that you won’t want to ignore it. I’m sure of it. So please. Let’s… let’s go to Gus’ place. And if we find his keys… Well, you can do whatever you want to do with me after that. But at least give me a chance.”
Kent looked back again.
Then looked around at Aoife.
Smirked.
“That’s a sweet proposal, love. But can I tell you one thing?”
He walked right up to her.
Leaned in towards her ear.
“I don’t take orders from no bitch.”
The next thing Aoife knew, he had one arm around her throat and a hand around her mouth, and he was dragging her away.
Chapter Thirty
Grace watched the three men surround Aoife and her barking dog, and a strange feeling of jealousy came over her.
She saw the way the big bloke held her up by the throat.
Saw the way the other two scanned her up and dow
n, head to toe, like she was a piece of meat.
She saw it all, and she didn’t feel sympathy for her. Didn’t feel pity for her.
But she felt jealousy. Envy.
Because she wanted Aoife all to herself.
She saw the man loosen his grip on Aoife. Saw him drop her to the road. And then she watched her as she spoke. She could see her pointing. See her trying to beg.
And a part of her enjoyed this. A part of her enjoyed watching Aoife trying to wriggle out of this situation.
A part of her hoped they gave her the second chance she was so desperately pining for.
But then that other part of her went numb.
Especially when she saw the man walk up to Aoife.
When she saw him smile, then punch her across the face.
When she saw Aoife collapse in a heap.
And then the man lifted her up, carried her over his shoulder.
She watched, and she felt that rage burning inside. That desire—that need—for revenge.
Because Aoife was hers.
Aoife was all hers.
And she wasn’t going to let her just slip away like this.
She watched the men take her away, and for a moment, she wondered if maybe letting these men do what they wanted with Aoife might be the best course of action after all.
Because at least that meant she’d go through hell.
She’d go through all kinds of pain.
But on the other hand… she felt a tightening inside her body.
A resistance.
Aoife was hers.
And she was going to make damned sure it was her who put her through the hell she deserved. Not some random fucking men.
Chapter Thirty-One
Aoife felt dizzy.
She turned her head. Wherever she was, it was bright. So bright it hurt to open her eyes. Her first instinct was that she’d been drinking and had far too much last night.
But… no. This was different. This felt hazy.
This felt…
It hit her again, all at once.
Everything that had happened.
Max.
Grace.
Everything.
She opened her eyes again, instinctively, even though it pained her to do so.